


Nights Like These

by aspiringdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:30:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aspiringdreamer/pseuds/aspiringdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds himself looking forward to nights when Niall’s close to shitfaced, and practically eye fucking him from across the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nights Like These

It’s always a couple of drinks in when Niall starts getting grabby; Running his hands affectionately through Liam’s soft hair, planting playful sloppy kisses on Louis’ cheek, and failing miserably at trying to lick Zayn’s face. They all laugh though, because it’s just Niall being drunk, and no one takes him seriously. Well, except for Harry. Because when those blue orbs turn to meet his eyes, Harry knows it’s different with him.

Niall’s gaze is unwavering, holding steady, eyes darkened with lust, and Harry feels his hands quiver. Because Niall doesn’t run his hands through his hair affectionately like he does to Liam, instead he tugs at it roughly every time Harry has him pressed up against some hardened surface. He doesn’t plant playful kisses on his cheek like he does to Louis, choosing to nibble at exposed shoulders and collarbones, leaving trails of angry dark markings. He doesn’t try to lick his face like he does to Zayn; he’d rather smother it with wet kisses and breathy moans released into the night. Because it’s different with Harry, and Harry thinks “well _shit_ , that’s fucking _terrifying_ ”.

Harry finds himself looking forward to nights when Niall’s close to shitfaced, and practically eye fucking him from across the room. He looks forward to nights when Niall’s pressed beneath him, eyes shut tight, mouth open in silent screams, as Harry ventures deep inside him. He looks forwards to nights when alcohol prohibits all thought process, and all they can think about is how _good_ this feels.

But all good things must come to an end, and that’s what happens every time the sun begins to peak through the blinds of the hotel room. Leaving traces that morning has dawned on them, and the alcohol has been drained from their systems; giving way to averted eyes, and awkward conversation. Niall produces a hesitant smile as always, running his hands through his messy hair.

“So…that was good” He’ll say. Pants already on, and shirt clutched tightly in his hands.

“’I’ll see you later, yeah?” Harry nods meekly, and Niall ends up practically running from the room. He leaves Harry with his chest tightening with something indescribable, as the door closes behind him. Harry decides he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like it one bit.

~.~

Okay, well maybe he does like it, _a little_ ; because he not only finds himself looking forward to drunken nights; but he starts craving them… _badly_. And maybe, just _maybe_ the mere thought of it causes him to blush all over, and turn his head away whenever Louis looks at him in question.

So in turn, he and Niall find excuses to get drunk all the time. Well, Harry finds an excuse; Niall just tags along for the free booze.

 It makes Harry feel like some sort of creep, because he’s practically feeding Niall free drinks with intent. But he forgets all about that when Niall has him pressed up against the bathroom wall of some dingy bar, mouth slick and wet on his dick.

~.~

It goes on like that for a while; this imminent cycle of booze and drunken hookups. Then it all comes to a shuddering stop, because Niall’s decided to get himself a girlfriend and Harry’s not quite sure how he feels about it.

And maybe he misses Niall a little bit. Okay a little bit _more_ than a little bit; because now Harry has to submit to drunken hookups in strange bars with strange men. He’s practically come to the conclusion that he must be gay, but after a failed attempt at a hand job, which leaves him both embarrassed and apologetic, he’s not quite sure. Because he couldn’t even get _hard_ for the toned man pressed against him, strong hands still shoved down his pants. And now Harry really hates his life, because he realizes he’s not gay in the least bit, just very niallsexual, and well that fucking _sucks_.

~.~

Things begin to get serious with Niall and his girlfriend Amy…Emma? Emily? Whatever, doesn’t matter, because now Harry feels like his world is slowly falling apart; because he’s had an epiphany about Niall. _No_ , not that he’s madly in love with him, but that he maybe may like him a little bit more than just a friend. Okay, a lot as more than a friend, but it’s definitely not love. Maybe…he doesn’t know anymore.

So he starts to avoid Niall. It’s really not that hard to do to be honest, because it’s not like they’ve spent much time together since Niall started dating his girlfriend. Plus, he’s sure Niall will barely notice, and that’ll give Harry some space to clear his head.

Though whatever Niall doesn’t notice, Zayn does, and that’s how he finds himself at a club in Australia with him. He’s beyond drunk at this point, preferring to drink the champagne straight from the bottle, and spray it at the crowd below. It feels good to be out enjoying himself, and he feels good because he’s not once thought about Niall. Niall…Niall… _fuck_.

His mood deteriorates from then, and he excuses himself from the drunken girl who has been trying to hit on him for the past half hour. He glances at Zayn who’s been screaming “Yolo” repeatedly at the top of his lungs, and cracks a small smile. Zayn meets his eyes, and Harry gestures towards outside. Zayn nods his head, and follows him out.

“I really like him…I may love him. I don’t know!” Are the first words out of Harry’s mouth once the cool air hits his face. Zayn looks at him in confusion, trying to make sense of his words. Harry’s pacing back and forth, chest raising quickly, the tell-tale signs of an impending panic attack.

“Calm down curly” Zayn says in that reassuring tone of his. Harry looks at him as if he’s grown another head and Zayn smiles softly.

“Is it Niall?” Zayn asks, even though he knows the answer. Because he’s got that Mr. Know-it-all look adorning his face, and Harry wants to hate him for reading him so easily, but he can’t. So he sighs heavily, and fixates his gaze towards the concrete sidewalk.

“Yea…”

~.~

So he starts to hang around Zayn a lot, because Zayn is now the bearer of his deepest darkest secret; though he’s quite sure Liam and Louis have caught on. Zayn is like his therapist in some way, because he prods Harry on how everything all began, listening too intently, it’s ridiculous. But he listens nonetheless, and Harry ends up telling him everything. He rambles on about how during the X-Factor days, he only saw Niall as just a friend, but once the first single came out, Niall became…hotter. And it did things to his body, but he pushed those thoughts aside to focus on the group. Blah, blah, blah.

He finally gets to the climax of the story, and Zayn is more than relieved. Harry explains it began the night their album debuted at number two on the UK charts, and all of them had gotten considerably drunk to celebrate. He doesn’t remember much about who initiated what, but he remembers the urgency in their kisses; so urgent, it was threatening to penetrate the surface. It was all lips, and limbs from then on, and Harry recalls the blissful manner in which they both came down from their high, childish smiles adorning their faces as they lay spent on the floor of Niall’s apartment. Life was _great_.

That was, until they both woke up in the morning with pounding headaches, and twin blushes on their cheeks at the acknowledgement that they had mutually blown each other the night before.

“Stop!” Zayn screams as he struggles to cover his ears, and shrink away the moment Harry begins to go into vivid details involving him and Niall’s sexcapades since that night. Harry laughs; a real laugh for the first time in days, and it feels good.

Everything is alright in the few weeks preceding, until shit hits the fan when Niall exclaims he’s madly in love with his girlfriend, whose name always seems to escape Harry. It’s not like he cares anyways. Niall sits the group down, and tells them that he’s asked her to marry him, and she said yes. Everyone is quiet, not quite sure how to react.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right?” the words tumble out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop them, but there are out in the open now, and he can’t seem to make himself feel sorry about it.

“No. I…I love her” Harry can feel that familiar pressure build behind his eyes, and he turns head away. Zayn gently squeezes his thigh, and Harry swallows down a sob. The silence has dragged on, and Niall’s anxiety is almost palpable.

“So?” he says and then the room explodes. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this will most likely end up a three parter. I wrote this a couple of months ago, and then seemingly had writers block up until now. So i'm currently working on the second and third chapters. I'm very critical about my writing, so please feel free to critique what I write. I don't think this piece was as good as I could have made it, so anything you say about it, won't hurt me. So, feedback is very much welcomed :) x


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